Drifting In The Shade
by AJ Elfhawk
Summary: Jack/Will - with darkness, deceit and violence. Set after the first film. Some years have passed, now Will is alone and facing death upon the sea. The horizon answers his prayers, but was his desire mistaken? Slash, I suppose...
1. A Test Of Will

Drifting In The Shade

By AJ Quendil

(Will's POV)

~*~

'I do not love her, I do not want her.'  I let my head roll slightly to the right, glancing out at the perpetual line of the sea.  I closed my eyes against the salty wind affronting them, 'It goes on forever, but I shall not.  For I know I am impressionable, and I know that I can not have all that is in the world, but I don't want to live, if it's without you.'  Sometimes, I wondered if my voice could be heard across the waves. 

But as each day and night passed slowly, stretching out my life, I knew I was to be alone now.  No one came, and unaided, my ship was becoming harder to sail with the oncoming winter gales… my rations were dwindled, and all but spent.  I had left in rage, which I now believe is one of the most dangerous of things to feel.  Whichever way I look at my situation, I know, in my heart, I am nearly defeated. 

I rise, and moving slowly, go to the wheel.  Pulling out the length of plank that holds the steering straight, I adjust the course slightly by the dawning sun.  Last night was rough, and I thought I would be drowned by the passing storm.  I almost wish I had, but no one listens to me anymore, so it is hardly surprising I survived.  If there is a God, he humours himself, and to no ends. 

I replaced the plank, and now the light was rising once more.  With the fishing line, I went back to the aft deck and hung it through the water.  Hours slowly ran together whilst I leant over the railing, hoping vainly for a catch.  There would be none again today. 

At sea, it was lonely, and dull.  I had often to find things to stimulate myself.  For a while, I soaked the last of the stale bread in fresh water to take away the hardness and fed it to the few gulls that had found me on the open sea.  But now there was no more food, and they had long forgotten where I was.

When finally the sun came to die again, I retreated to my cabin, utterly spent by yet another day of the ocean's battering, overwhelmed by it.  I took out a piece of parchment from those rolled up tightly in a draw and set it on the drawing table, where the ink stood tied down to stop it from taking an untimely jump and shattering should the tides rise high.

_Jack, _

I wrote the word as I said it aloud, feeling the name roll off my tongue easier than it ever did in his presence. 

_I have come to an end now.  I am at sea, and without help, I cannot survive. I do not expect you to get this in time, but if you ever find the ship, I want you to know that my final thoughts were all of you.  My feelings for you have been nothing but strong over these passing years.  Now I am a man, grown into my years, and I wear myself differently to how you might remember. _

I paused my writing to get myself a drink.  That would definitely help.  A good fine brandy, for what need had I to save it on this reckless voyage?  The liquid was warm in the glass, but it burned a path of fire down my throat, and I almost coughed at its potency.  My eyes watered without mercy, and I replaced the stopper.  Maybe I would save it, after all. 

_I grow my hair to just past my shoulders; I always liked the style on you, yet never dared try such a rustic look myself until now.  Don't fear, it is nothing on your fashion claim.  My hair has ever grown wavy, whereas yours… I admit now I do not know exactly how it grows.  Knotted? _

I chuckled, and suddenly, even the simple memory of his hair was enough to move me.  I left a small space, and let my feelings flow through my hand.  Let my intention become sealed as words onto parchment.  __

_Why do you haunt me, at the conclusion of my days?  Why is it you I lament for, and cannot forget?  I gave up trying to find my way to your harbour, for I have not seen land in one hundred and forty-three days, and so I should have given up all fanciful thoughts of your charming manner.  I want you, now.  To hear your footsteps echoing mine, your breath nearby. Whether it is edged with alcohol or not.   I want to hear you moving around, existing beside me.  And these are thoughts I cannot make sense of.  I know they are impure, and dirty too._

_ Why is it that I have never heard of any other in your life?  No conquests or romances?  No lady traveller to whom you took fancy with?  I dared to breathe so long in hope that it meant we might share more than just drink together.  Do you think me pathetic?  Craving you like this?  Well, I care not.  My heart feels too strongly, and it knows what it desires.  Perhaps you forgot me long ago, but if not, may you remember me in my father's image; for I am strong, and unafraid.   I demand that above all else._

  I signed the paper simply 'Will', and let the feather quill drop onto the desk, staining ink onto the bottom of the page.  I rose from the chair and grabbed another bottle from the cabinet.  All that was left was a malt whiskey.  Such had always been good enough for the Captain sparrow.  A smile began to curve on my lips, as I poured it straight into my mouth and went out onto the deck.  Anything milder I had drunk long ago.  __

I climbed the stairs until I looked down upon the bowspit, jutting from the front of the ship, spearing the air ahead to make way for the ship.  I wanted to impale myself upon it.  As a warning to all those that might think they could take the sea and tame it.  As a message to Jack, to show him that I could not, indeed, survive alone.   

I remembered the time I finally tried to tell Jack the truth.

'Jack, you are a pirate.'  I had said the day it came for us to part.

'Well… I'd rather think of myself as an unscrupulous adventurer, but it hardly sounds as catching, wouldn't you agree?'  I ignored his rambling with a brief look of annoyance.

'But you see, I am a pirate too, and yet we are still both men underneath,' I had said touching my exposed chest, as suggestively as I dared.  'And we each have feelings, though some show through more than others.'  I should have found a better time, but that was no longer a thing I had in abundance.  He had predictably been intoxicated from a hard night of drinking and though I like to think he had done so because he knew no other way to approach me, I doubt very much he would have broken his perpetual drunkenness for my sake alone.  In fact, not even for a lot of people's sakes. 

This time, he had lurched aside a little, with a hand to his brow, and his eyebrows had furrowed like he'd suddenly forgot where'd he'd moored his ship. 

'Lad.'  He clasped my shoulder very tightly, and opened his eyes, looking down into mine like an anxious father.  'I think you should get yourself laid, and quick, before you even step foot on that bloody boat.  Or else you'll have nothing but your thoughts and the good right hand to ease the sea madness!'  He laughed at my face, and I smiled, dismayed. 

'Be serious.'  I pleaded.  'For once, just be serious.  I am trying to tell you something.' 

'And what exactly, in no uncertain terms, would that be?'  He leered, until I grabbed him by his shirt, and dragged his face close to mine.  His eyes flicked up from where I had a grip upon him, and met my gaze, 'Ah.'  He said, gently but not hesitantly dislodging the hand.  'Suddenly realised you cannot go without me for another second and you want a tumble in the wagon, eh?'  He smirked, and I could not find it in myself to lie any more. 

'Something like that.  Perhaps.  Yes.'  I said passively.  And Jack's sudden laugh sounded like he was half way to choking.  He looked at my face as he was bent over, expecting me to be joking.  This was hardly an unbreached subject between us, he was always teasing me.  But now, I blinked hard as I felt the motions of tears oncoming.  As if I couldn't possibly make myself any less manly, without that to help! 

I dug my heel into the wood and swivelled away.  'Goodbye Captain Jack.  See you upon the ocean.'  I had got perhaps four steps away, when his hand implanted itself in my collar and pulled me around. 

'What?!' His eyes were wide with sobriety, nothing clouded his understanding now.  'Are you damned serious?'  I nodded.    'Because Will, I am a pirate, like you say.  A Freebooter, a plunderer of the sea… or by any other name!  Will! Lad… you do not want me.'  He had floundered a moment for words, and then embraced me awkwardly.  'Fare y'well, mate.  I shall always look for your vessel on the horizon.'

And then he turned and walked away, swaggering slightly down the gangplank as it rocked under his weight.  I watched him hit the edge of a barrel still to be loaded, and in true fashion of Captain Sparrow, stumble onwards without a passing thought.

_Will. Lad. You do not want me.  _Ashes of those words, they haunt my tongue still. 

I heard the sound of heavier waves beating the hull, and feared the previous night was about to recur.  Indeed, the wind whipped back my hair, and filled the sails, pulling the ship to starboard.  I dropped the whiskey without a care, and rushed up the ship.   Launching upon the rigging, I began to pull the sails up.  The process was agonisingly slow, but it was a fight I won.  I noticed the hull had begun to strain with the waves; by the way it pushed up water the other side, and I hurried to the wheel.  I threw aside the plank, and let the helm spin freely for a moment as the hull levelled, before turning it to face the oncoming gale. 

You know the power of the sea when you feel it through the wood of your craft.  The waves rose high and came crashing down all around me.  The force dragged my feet out from beneath me as I struggled to keep a hold.  It washed me across the deck, and I was flung against the side, until finally the water gave out and let me up.  I coughed, and felt my back aching as I rose. 

I lurched to the cabin in time with the motion of the sea, and flung the door shut behind me.  The sound of glass scraping around behind closed cupboards filled the room, and my letter lay overturned on the floor.  I held onto the desk as I knelt.  I read the first two lines again, and then no more…

'Jack, I have come to an end now.'  I crawled to the bunker where I slept.  From beneath I dragged out a small, wooden chest, and took out one of the empty wine bottles kept in there.  I rolled the parchment and thrust it inside, followed by the tight cork.  The chair by my desk slowly tipped over, and the furniture in the room slid towards me.  I could not steer the ship alone in this storm, I knew that now.  And water was running under the door even now.  My long coat lay on the bed, and slowly I stood, putting it on. 

'Calm yourself, Will Turner.'  I said softly.  'No need for rush now.' 

I left, letter still in hand.  I took out my sword and cut a length of rope from a spare coil lying loose on the deck.  I double knotted it, one end to my wrist, and the other I tied to the bottle.  The rain started soon after, coming in sheets of cold hard showers, beating me down, trying to knock the life from me.  I pushed the note into my trouser pocket and went straight back to the helm, attempting to adjust the course again, but the wheel span round and round and it was so strong my arm was nearly wrenched off.  As I braced my foot against the deck, the ship gave another horrifying lurch.  I slipped hard and the spinning tiller struck my face.  Landing on my side, I felt the ocean spray pouring down over me again, and I spluttered at the brackish taste of it, making me want to retch.  I tried to stand, and another wave rolled me across the deck, but even when it stopped, I did not rise.  My thin, emaciated body was finally telling me it could take no more.  With little food for several weeks now, I hadn't the reserves to last in this way.  A pirate I might be, but I knew that when the sea called, you went to it.  One way or another. 

And then Jack was in my mind again.  He would not have given up.  He would have fought this storm, shown that he could not be beaten by a bit of rain. 

'I am not Jack Sparrow.' __

_No, but you are part of him. '_I shall always look for your vessel on the horizon,' that is what he had said.  And he did not despise me, even if he knew the truth.  He was perhaps waiting for me even now, but I couldn't be with him.  I was a million miles away, about to join my father in death.  Lightning flashed and startled me into awareness.  I crawled on my knees to the fore mast.  There was blood on my face, dripping fast from my nose.  I wrapped my arm into the sail rope and held tightly.  The waves came pounding still, and they nearly overturned the vessel, but she was sturdy, and braced against the heaving waters.  Then, when the wind began to lessen I made my fatal mistake.  I left the mast, hoping to ride the last of the storm out on my bed, now that I knew I would not be capsized and trapped in there.  I was about to go back up the deck when a roaring filled my ears.  I looked quickly to my left as a tidal swell overtook the boat, and washed far over my head, pulling me up into the current of it.  I felt myself swept far over the side, the rope long pulled from my grasp.  As it took me down into the sea, I kicked hard when I felt the full cold enveloping, and noticed the silence under the waters surface.  I reached the air again, and was far away from the ship, being tossed back and forth like a toy.  The water poured into my mouth as I tried to just draw breath.  __

'Please!'  I cried, dragged under again.  I no longer knew who I prayed to.  The realisation came to me whilst I was once more submerged, that if I gave up now, I would make the passing faster.  I could breath in the water and drown my lungs, and save the struggle.  My chest already burned, the water would put out that fire, and release me from my mortal fear.  __

But I was too weak to even do that.  I was thrown to the surface once more, and for a while I thought I might survive, but my energy gave out, and I forgot to kick.  Slowly, I drifted in the swirling current, up to my chin in the water.  Darkness crept into the world.  The air calmed and I felt the waves slacken.  But I could not see my ship, and slowly, the last of the fight in me died as I did.  I came to battle with fear and shadows, and despair of faded chance.  Now I had fulfilled that wish, I could be at rest.  __

In my madness I thought I saw a vision before me, a black ship making headway in the remnants of the storm, battling the few remaining winds and pushing onwards.  In my mind, I saw Jack at the very head of the bow, starring at me, waving, calling me back.  __

And when I realised that I had not yet passed to another world, I felt life stirring once more.  My legs were frozen, like ice.  My body was stiff with it.  It had become so cold I could no longer feel.  __

'Will!'  I shivered, and tore my eyes upwards again.  I kept slipping under the surface, not on purpose, only I was falling asleep.  In the twilight, I saw a rope thrown out towards me, and I tried to grasp it, even felt the twine slip through my fingers.  I sank again, finally succumbing.  As I drifted downwards slowly, I saw the outline of the Black Pearl, dark against the sky.  I closed my eyes, and finally my mind was broke, I let the bottle go.  The silence of the water was blissful.  But above all, Jack had not forgotten me.  I breathed in deeply, and my body twitched in passing shock, and then gradually became still.  __

__

__

~*~ 


	2. Oceans Tidings

**Drifting In The Shade. **

Chapter 2: 

(Jack's POV) 

~*~ 

'Man overboard!' I heard Gibbs yell above the roar of the wind. I turned awkwardly towards where the men were rushing. How he could see a thing in this weather was beyond me. I squinted at the horizon, and then saw the struggling shape just below it. 

I shoved past every crewman in my way, until I reached the very foremost point of the ship. 'Scope!' I demanded, quickly accepting what was thrust in my hand, and several men crowded in behind me, pushing me against the railing. I looked back at them with a glare, and they gave off a little as I extended it, and narrowed in on the sea's latest victim. The waves were throwing the man about like he wasn't even there! I looked up, and then peered again, harder. 'Bleeding mother of Christ!' 

'What is it, Cap'in?' 

'Turner!' 

'Bootstrap's? Here?' 

'I'm sure of it. Row against the storm! We have to get him out, now!' Gibbs probably felt even more daunted by this task than myself, but I managed to keep a decent level of panic for everyone. 'Raft! Man the raft!' 

'It's not sea-worthy, Jack.' I turned on the unfortunate man. 

'Captain, Gibbs! You blithering sea-bilge, why isn't it?' And I remembered anyway, and waved over his explanation. 'Right… this was not in the plan… Throw him a line!' As we drew nearly level to him, I could see him clearly. I grabbed the nearest support, staring in shock. I watched the cable of twine as it landed in the water, and strained forwards waiting to see if he would grab it. 'Come on Turner! Come _on_!' 

'He's a goner, sir.' 

'Will you, _shut up_! I'm going in.' 

'Sir! You must be mad!' 

'That I must, Mr Gibbs, that I must!' I yelled back over my shoulder as I quickly found the helm through the rain and bodies, and checked on the approach. 'Crewman Cotton, are you positively certain that you know exactly what you're doing with that wheel? Because _if_ you crush him, I swear I'm go'na thong yer so hard!' The mute looked queerly at me, and I felt very unnecessary. 'Just… be careful?' I pleaded in the end, as I rolled my cloak off my shoulders and placed it carefully on the banister beside me, and lay my pistol and sword upon the deck beside it. 'Steer around him, but keep a fair berth. And watch me effects, if you'd be so kind…' I smiled at him, attempting sociable this time. His grim look did nothing to instil courage in me for their safety. 'Never trusted that man,' I muttered, climbing up on the front guard, balancing shakily. 'Will! I'm coming!' My arms were thrown wide and waving about, just as I remembered something rather important. 

'Rope!' I yelled at the bodies running about disorderly behind me. A massive length was flung at me from nowhere, and I grabbed it as it threw me off balance. I nearly fell slightly ahead of schedule, which would have probably meant being in fact keelhauled, and so I put the thought at a remote part of my consciousness. I tied a knot about my middle with shuddering hands. 

'Right.' I put a boot on the railings, ready, not altogether liking the way the waves were churning and boiling beneath the ship. 'And don't you dare let go!' I reminded the small bunch of thoroughly rained-upon miscreants. They made no indication of having even acknowledged I spoke. Gibbs came forward, puffing from exertion. 'He's gone under… There's no chance now Captain. He's lost.' 

'He is not _lost_! I can see exactly where he is… there's something floating there! Now let me go, and… if I don't ever return, you may have my hat.' I clapped him briefly on the shoulder, and pulled up on the rail. 

_One… two…_ 'Go careful now Jack!' He roared, giving me a sound push overboard. 

'Captain!' I yelled as I plummeted downwards. I felt myself turn in the air to point through the water. The black surface rushed upwards to meet me, and in the last moment I closed my eyes until I was clear of the surface swells. I pushed onwards, struggling to make way through such a fierce current. My hazy view of Will was partially coloured, but mostly just blur. I felt the rope tugging round myself as the men braced my weight through the pull of the ocean. I didn't have much time. The Pearl was going a fair few knots thanks to the wind, and if I did not grab the lad and surface in time I would be dragged along behind the ship until they could slow it, or I was drowned. 

I kept going until my chest felt like bursting. I broke surface and swam fiercely to the small bottle bobbing along above the deep. It was not free-floating, something pulled it downwards, and I dove again when I drew close. I saw at the rope's length a pale, slender wrist caught up, and I grabbed the thing, pulling him upwards, until finally I grasped the sleeve of his coat in my fingers and hoisted him from the oceans grip. I gasped air and began tugging on the rope about my waist, hoping those at the other end would feel it quickly. I spat seawater out as I dragged the body over the water with me. I could see he did not breathe. 

'Any time, boys!' I hollered vainly at the ship. Finally I felt myself being hauled against the current and back towards the Pearl. 

I lifted Will's cheek from the water, and when we were directly under the hulls rim, I caught a second rope as it fell onto me. I attached the thing under the lad's arms, and watched them lift him clean out of the water. His head was slumped back, and water rivulets ran from his fingers and hair as he ascended towards the night. I floated around in the current aimlessly for a while, trying to stop myself being bashed against the ship every other wave or so. Eventually they got around to it, and I was taken up. 

Just an arms length from returning onboard, the taughtness holding me slackened, and I grabbed the edge of the railing as they let go all together. 

'Ye good-for-nothing _sea-rats_!' I complained, but they were all talking and fussing, and spared hardly a thought for their actual captain struggling half way up the ship. I shook my head and swung a leg up for leverage, making the final climb myself. 

I fell back onto the deck unnoticed. Standing drenched where I was, I couldn't even see Will for the crowd around him. I wiped my face as I staggered forwards, exhausted by the swim and climbing, and pulled each out of my way. And there in the clouded moonlight, Will lay. His skin was blue, and cold as I knelt down to touch his face. I couldn't feel even a beat of his heart. 'Move! Out my way!' I ordered, lifting Will by the waist, so that his head hung down below belly height. I got a firm grip and heaved him against me. 

Everyone present watched in grave silence, forgetting the storm. 

'C'mon young Bootstrap,' someone muttered. 'You ain't gone for John yet.' 

'How long was he under?' Gibbs asked quietly. I shook Will again, constricting my arms tight about his chest, and a flood of water gushed out his nose and mouth. I dropped him hard on the deck, and the force of it knocked life back into him. 

'Apparently, not long enough.' I replied, and let the lad choke up more seawater for a while, whilst I went to retrieve my belongings. 

As I re-hung my sword, Ladbroc came forward to me. 'Cap'ain, sir, we got this off him just before you saved his boots.' He held out to me the glass bottle I had seen before. 

'Rum?' I asked hopefully, but the man scowled. 

'No! There be a _message_ inside. The men say it's from the beasts of the sea, warning him from their waters.' 

I raised my eyebrows with interest. 'Oh do they now? So they think beasts of the sea managed to write a note, find a bottle, and tie it to his wrist… without him ever knowing?' 

'Yes… Maybe. We could always ask him… They say; these are strange waters we be sailing…' 

'No stranger than the likes of you I'd wager.' 

'Well… Mr Turner might know what happened, I vote we ask him!' Moises looked up from his place on the lower deck with a sound; ''Ere 'ere!' Not that he should have even been listening from that far away in the first place. I'd had suspicion the tale could only have had someone as mad as him give it startling birth. 

'I'm afraid, Gentlemen, that the topic in question is not, in fact, open to vote. Now if ye don't mind…' I wrung my bandana, then placed it, with my hat, over my brow as I uncorked the bottle with a harsh tug. The sound carried, and I heard Will yell out my name. Looking up, I stowed the note away in a recess of my cloak with a slight of hand, and threw the bottle back to the ocean. With my long coat across my arm, I came between the men again, to see they had given the lad a sheet for warmth. He was still lying near to where I'd left him, probably just as exhausted as myself. 

'The bottle I had on me…' his voice was weak, and I found myself feeling _concerned_… which was obviously absurd. 

'Yes, you're very welcome William, I _know_ it was dreadfully perilous, and I could very well have died, but then, y'always need a good bit a' fatal _risk _to keep ye lively in old age.' 

'You didn't!' He stared at me open mouthed, lips still purple from the cold. He glanced hastily at the assembled crew; rat-tailed hair clung loosely to his face. 'You damn fool, you might have drowned!' 

'_Yes_, I _did_ realise that just about when I was struggling through the waves for me life.' His smile was slow, not to mention took long enough in getting there. 

'You are positive there was nothing on me?' He questioned again. 

'Oh… I threw that thing over the edge just now… wasn't important I hope?' He sighed, letting his legs stretch out. 

'No. It was nothing.' 

'A few men here'd be more then willing to help lift ye to me cabin, I'm hoping?' I waited expectantly, and a couple shuffled forward. They grasped Will by the arms and legs and hefted him away down the stairs, leaving the sheet behind. I smiled as I listened to his protests, and followed after them. 

The door to the cabin was thrown open with such force, and I glared around at it to make sure nothing was damaged. 'Throw 'im on the bed.' I said, quickly winding my way over to my drinks cabinet. Will's head shot up, and a fine shrewd look came my way from between his legs as they carried him. 

'Gently…' I reconciled. They dumped him and each filed out as I rushed to hold the door, fearing it might be smashed into the woodwork again if I left them to close it. 

'Now… just you lie there, and rest yourself up, Will. Don't worry about me.' I took him a glass of fine spirit, and went to my desk. I moved the oil lamp there closer, and took out the parchment from the bottle. 

'What are you doing?' Will asked casually. I quickly grabbed a discarded book from the dusty heap, and placed it between the pages as I read. 'Since when did you read?' He asked accusingly, I lowered the book, and squinted at him. 

'You didn't think I could?' He shifted a little, balancing the drink on his chest, but not taking any. 

'No, I just didn't believe that you did. Bearing your reputation in mind, of a fearsome, rugged, totally barbaric pirate… who spends his evenings reading-' He paused. _'Keeping Looters From Your Waters._' 

I looked at the cover, and glowering threw the thing back on the heap it came from. A billow of dust flew in my face, and I coughed, waving my arms to clear it. 

'You know Will… I may not be a Pirate all my life, one day I might settle down, decide to have a family… Build a home, or three… with all the gold I've pillaged, it's very possible.' 

Will's look was disbelieving, and I smiled disarmingly, but he didn't give way. 'Oh all right. I keep it there to make myself look a learned man.' 

'And what would the crew say if they saw that then?' 

'The crew! They got as much hope of ever learning to read as a slug has of flying. Don't be ridiculous. Now go to sleep, you're doing my head in.' He set the untouched glass aside, and took off his sodden coat and vest. 

'Do you have anything else I could wear while these dry out?' I looked up at the closet, and then wandered towards it. From inside, I pulled a faded shirt, and some new pants, scraping off the mothballs, and tossing them to him. He changed behind my back, whilst I went back to the drinks cabinet; leaning on the edge of it mournfully. Only a single bottle of rum left. We had not made dock in a long time, and I was going to suffer for it now. The men were getting fed up of not being able to spend their earnings, and so I had ordered us to return to Tortuga, so they might find themselves some more drink and satisfying company. I had not bargained on finding Will floating miles out from the bay, though. 

My own clothes were still damp on my skin, and I looked down at the wet boot prints all over my floor and carpets with annoyance. I half thought about making some undeserving soul scrub through the night, but I couldn't be bothered to drag a man here to do it. Leaving my shirt over the back of a chair, I saw Will had got himself quite comfortable on my bed. 

'This is the Captain's lodge, Turner… not the drowned, unshaven wretch's.' He looked across his shoulder, and stroked his light beard carefully, as if he had not considered it before. 

'A wretch, you call me?' 

'And what of it?' I tugged one of the braids on my chin alike, striking a challenging pose. He sighed softly, and rose. 'Throw some spare cloths on the carpet, there, we'll find ye new quarters in the morning. And now, I intend to sleep out these vile conditions, and hope a fair breeze returns for our sail tomorrow.' 

Will began to route out bed ware from the dusty closet while I made fast to sleep. 'Where does the helm point?' Came a sudden question, and I kicked my boots down into a corner. 

'Tortuga of course, lad. Why else would I be in these waters? Here to spend the plunder!' 

'I don't know, I didn't even know where we were until just now.' His arms slowed, and I felt uneasily for his predicament. 'I have lost my ship, Jack. I lost that, and my crew, but not together. And now I must consider my deeds more carefully. There will be consequences.' My elation of mentioning the booty was squashed mercilessly by his self-pity, and I felt cheated of well-earned praise, until I realised that with Will, gold probably didn't matter more than what he spoke of, for he used to rarely tell of his problems unless he was struggling with their weight. 

'I am on borrowed time,' he whispered in the half-light. The haunting expression Will wore chilled my stern heart, and I threw a pillow at him to break the effect. 

He would say no more, even when I bothered to pry. Walls against me were set, it seemed, and maybe a fine drink would have eased them, but for once, strange though it might be, I was too worn to make the effort of relieving Will his lucidity. Although, I might have just not wanted to force him like that. If he was like the Turner I had known, concealment of the thing would get to him in the end, and he'd tell just the same. 

'A man's troubles are always his own, William, it is the way of things.' I told him sagely, and settled back. 'Oh, if ye would'n mind blowing the lamps while you're standing.' I shut my eyes, waiting for him to comply, and surely enough, they extinguished. I smiled complacently. 'I'll give you duties at dawn of course, so get what sleep ye can.' 

'Yes Captain.' He replied, and in my mind, I travelled back and saw him as the youthful and impulsive explorer that he had become. Now, William Turner was altered, beyond repair, more than likely. There were questions forming already, like exactly what had come between Elizabeth and himself… although, if I weren't mistaken, that was now apparent. I frowned to myself in the quiet of the room, remembering the discarded letter, and hoping to still recall it when the morning came. I crossed my ankles, and hugging my chest, went about a timely slumber. 

~*~ 


	3. Lies, Rum and Tortuga

**Drifting In The Shade**

**Chapter 3: Lies, Rum and Tortuga.**

* * *

_(Will's POV)_

That night, the same dream visited me, as it often did. I was stood perfectly still, looking through a suffocating fog. As I suddenly breathed in, the sulphurous fume of it swept through me, burning my throat, pouring like lava to the very pit of my stomach. I choked with it, and tried so hard not to breathe at all. But of course that was impossible. I was surrounded by tall, dark peaks of rock. In the dream, I could never find a break between them, and the poisonous air swirled around my head and feet, so completely engulfing. Above there was a pale light that shone precariously, and only when I surrendered, completely defeated, then I was released. I wandered in darkness, wary of the way. I did not know this place. I thought I saw I table, filled with strange ornaments, jewellery… Elizabeth would approve. A precious red pendant lay centre on the polished wood, and it caught my attention immediately. This was not for her though, this was mine. I stretch out my hand, reaching to touch the charming thing, until someone grabbed my arm from taking it, and I woke suddenly.

And looked down, adjusting to reality from the dream. Anxiously drawing in air, I found myself to be still in the darkness, rocked steadily by movement of the waves. Jack's hand was tight on my wrist, and I felt a knife digging in my stomach. A dark thrill itched up my spine, and my heart raced as he withdrew it from against me.

'What are ye doing?' He said softly, yet I couldn't speak for a moment. Then I saw where I was, and wrenched my hand free. I backed away from his bed with a start, clutching the sore spot his blade had left. 'What's wrong with yeh? It's the crack of bloody dawn!'

'It was a dream,' I said, 'I'm sorry I woke you.'

'I don't care what sort'a dream it were, you ain't comin' in with me.'

My mind lit up angrily, scandalised by what Jack said, and what he might be implying. 'Is that what you think I was doing?'

'Wasn't it?'

'No! I was walking in my sleep, it's not a thing I can exactly help.'

'Really? How interesting,' he said softly to himself, and though I had half turned to go, I stopped, unsure whether Jack was just being sarcastic or thoughtful.

'Why is it interesting, Jack?'

I squinted slightly because of the darkness, though it made barely any difference. Fabric rustled a moment, and then Jack's bare feet crossed the floor over to me. His hand felt my abdomen, checking he hadn't done harm. He was close by, but I couldn't even see his face. The brush of his fingertips was warm; the grains of his years fixed into them now stroked my stomach.

'I'm all right.' I assured him, brushing away the touch with a careful movement. 'Go back to sleep.'

'So ye can jump me as soon as I go dropping off? I'm thinking, that would be a no.' Jack brushed himself casually against my arm, and I turned my head sharply, realising where he stood, and disturbed by his nakedness. If it were light, I imagined he would be leering amusingly.

'No!' I replied hotly, breaking the moment. I pushed past roughly, and quickly threw myself onto the floor. Though I landed on the bedding, the wood was hard below and my shoulder jolted wickedly. I clenched my teeth not to make a sound as my eyes watered. It was almost comic, but I held still waiting for Jack to do something.

Within a moment he retreated to his own bed, I released a breath I didn't even realise I was holding. For once, Jack Sparrow did not have another word to say to me. I never asked him again if he went back to sleep.

* * *

I awoke near the mid-morning, or close enough. Each muscle burned softly under my skin, and my throat was painfully sore. Instantly I looked up to where Jack was lying. One of his feet hung loosely over the side of his bed. I leaned on my elbows and saw that he was dressed and reading in bed, the glass of spirit he had given me the previous night balanced between his fingers. I saw his foot twitch, swinging slightly against gravity, and I stood up. I pulled and rotated my bad shoulder, relaxing it now, and Jack let the book fall forward on his chest. His eyes were narrowed, and a small smile already graced his lips.

'What's so funny?' I rasped, swallowing tight around the dull soreness. He sat up to pull on his boots.

'Where's Elizabeth?' He replied, and the question cut me. Even now, all this time later, it was an exposed nerve, raw, like I was still bleeding from her absence.

'She is not missing me, if that's what you think.' I stroked back the length of my hair, pushing it behind my ears, and I walked over to the bay window of Jack's cabin, trying to keep calm. Through the closed glass pane, the sun dazzled my eyes. 'Do you ever watch the sunrise, Captain?'

'Now, this is dire. You married a brilliant young lady, full of the joys of love, and heats of passion and so on and so forth. Now you're on the Black Pearl mooing over a dawn.'

I stood fooling myself for a while longer, then turned with a small apologetic smile, feeling too stupid to even attempt an explanation. 'I could certainly use a drink now,' I conceded to him.

Jack slipped from the bed, the heel of his boots clicking along the wood as he weaved around my makeshift arrangement on the floor. 'So half drowned, you won't take one, but first thing of the morning's fine.' Suddenly I realised his destination.

'I meant… as in water.'

Jack grunted, his gradient veering effortlessly away from the liquor cabinet back towards me as he grabbed my collar and steered me to his dresser, pushing on my shoulder until I was seated on the small stool there. I went to pick up the jug but he reached it first, pouring and thrusting the mug of water into my hands.

'You're scrawny as a cabin boy.'

'Am I?' I muttered, with larger matters on my mind.

'Look.' He grasped the edge of the mirror, tilting it upwards to my face.

I complied with his desire for me to confront myself. My eyes looked the only healthy thing alive on me against the angularity from where the natural hollows about my bones had deepened. How could Jack even bare to look at me, when to myself, I appeared almost dead?

'So tell me what happened. And tell me about this.' He pulled my left arm up towards him exposing my last and failed endeavour to die of something other than starvation or heat stroke.

I pulled back, not ready to remember these things. It was all too much at once. Until yesterday I hadn't seen a soul in nearly half a year. I had been thoroughly prepared for death. Now by some trick of the same God who still had a sense of cruel humour, I was being forced to confront life again.

'Were you trying to drown?' He demanded, sounding almost angry. He thought I was weak.

'No! I was trying to survive!' I suddenly didn't want to be having this conversation. I pushed the mirror down and rose, wishing to be out of his sight.

'Will, where are you going?'

'I need some air.'

'You've got air in here!'

I turned on him in fury. 'Then I'm going to try and drown again, does that satisfy you?' I sneered angrily, and kept walking. I ensconced myself from sight for the rest of the day. When pressed by anyone, I brushed past the more awkward questions.

I'd found a longer sleeved shirt for a start.

* * *

We reached Tortuga as the evening dawned. I had been so close yet so ready to give up. My guilt, the shame of it was almost over-riding me. As we pulled alongside the moor, I worked hard to help the others make dock to help keep my mind occupied. As Jack turned to the business of paying the other men while they shifted restlessly for their share, I could not help watching him joke and barter with the crew. He made to leave quickly, trusting Gibbs to secure the ships holding fee with the dock. I stepped over the side then swung my other leg down to the ladder and half descended, half fell to the bottom.

'Things are dangerous here, now.'

'So we're going deeper into the port, while it's more dangerous? That makes sense.' I muttered.

'I don't want to be disturbed,' he replied sourly. Gradually the crewmen had divided off as we went, and now only Kursar and Crimp remained with us.

When we reached his destination, I didn't even realise. There were no windows onto the street and I would not have known it was a proper freehouse until we were inside. Jack nodded at the others, and they released themselves over to a corner, followed by one of the barmaids who giggled and cooed at them appreciatively, no doubt after their fresh wages in one fashion or another.

I followed Jack to a table, and he waved over the boy lurking at the sideline of the room.

'Hello Captain,' the lad smiled, 'Your usual's free tonight?'

'If yeh please,' Jack watched the boy carry off his bag towards one of several staircases, directing another serving girl towards us as he went. Her hair was long and dirty gold, she didn't look old enough to be here.

When she brought two glasses and a whole bottle of drink over, I watched her eyelashes fluttering low over her cheeks. I wondered briefly if she was his 'usual' or the room. Then I looked to the side as I saw Jack watching me.

'So what were you doing in that dingy anyway?

'That dingy was my ship.'

'That was a ship? I didn't know they made them so small.'

I stared at him, incredulous. I knew he was goading me. 'You have more gold in your mouth than I remember,' I returned.

'Ah, well. This I lost…' His finger pushed against the shiny surface that had replaced it. 'And this I won.'

'You won that?' I asked sceptically.

'Yea, why?'

'You won a _tooth_?'

'William, you damn fool. I won the gold!'

We spent some time getting drunker, Jack mostly so, and listening to him talk about himself before we finally went upstairs, taking the next bottle with us. The room was large, divided into sleeping and sitting quarters. It seemed to be away from most of the other rooms as I'd seen none on the way here. As we took seats on the borrowed furniture, he now turned the conversation towards me, as I had expected him to. 'Now, tell me about Elizabeth,' he offered as he poured fresh glasses. He would not let it go easily.

'She was a woman of much class and integrity. In the end, I have found that I offered her little but the faded adventures we shared. My life, as it has become, gives her ... well. She would prefer to be with someone different.'

'Someone to satisfy all her calls of desire,' he clarified. I glowered at him, feeling murderous.

'You don't know what you're talking about.'

'Ye know, Will Turner, I have a distinct feeling that I won't like seeing you drunk tonight, and it is my civil duty to remove that drink right now-'

'No!' I snatched the bottle back, and put it to my lips. I forced myself to swallow several mouthfuls, and then the rush of liquor had me bent over, coughing. 'That was good.' I said weakly, with tears in my eyes.

'Turner, ye little whelp, give me that rum!' I held it out of reach as he flailed, and laughed cruelly.

'This is mine now, go find yourself another.' I took a swig, and this time my throat didn't burn quite so much. I rose meaning to walk away from Jack to the chair beside in the corner, but my knee hit the bed on the way. With a yell of surprise I fell backwards onto it, managing at least to keep the bottle upright. 'Woah there.' I laughed at my success, bouncing slightly as I rolled over.

I watched him walk purposefully across the room, his braids swishing round his face as he went. He held the door handle firmly, standing perfectly still against it.

I sat up quickly. 'Are you leaving?' But he looked back slowly, and smiling, shook his head. As Jack returned, falling onto the bed beside me and prising the rum from my grasp, he poured nearly the whole of what was left down his own throat. My eyes were round with awe. He swallowed with a shake of his head, and threw his hat across the room, slowly collapsing onto his back. He groaned softly and then opened his eyes to mine.

'Why did you do that?'

'You're not to be getting drunk without _me_!'

'But why'd you drink it all!'

His eyes darted down and up again before he replied. 'So you couldn't.' The response was simple, but he had betrayed himself. As he leant up on his elbows, I glowered with fury. 'Now leave me to my misery, that bottle was meant t'last a week, there's none on board and I don't want to contemplate being sober whilst I'm still drunk. So if ye don't mind, Will.'

'We're not on the ship anymore, Jack.' But he flattened out his legs on the bed, and within a moment I heard his breathing change. The anger inside me was so immense; I pushed the blunt edges of my nails against my palms to stop from hitting him.

How could he have the nerve to deprive me of drink when I was the one who had all the reasons to be getting high, and certainly he did not. Then I realised he may have been right. If I were this angry without even a solid lot of alcohol in me, how violent might I have become with it? Perhaps being a drunkard had made him incredibly perceptive to others of a similar state. Jack Sparrow, the alcoholic martyr.

I forced myself to keep calm, and instead watched Jack sleeping softly, which was altogether strange. For his rough and unpredictable nature, to then be so peaceful when asleep. It seemed as though through his waking life, he had manufactured a personality that kept him alive, and yet, now he looked so harmless. If he were ever normal, he would be completely exposed. His personality was protection not only for himself, but for those around him, it commanded respect in some form or other.

I was leaning down towards him, before the thought had even formed in my mind. I let my lips touch his mouth gently, and when he did not stir I ran my tongue over the closed set of his teeth. I pulled back shaking, excited by the wayward act I had just committed. I wanted more than that. I wanted to touch him, to clasp his fingers tightly. I leant down again, kissing against the lifeless curve of his chin, licking the skin softly with the tip of my tongue, tasting a saline quality there.

'Go t'sleep, Will. I've an awful suspicion that yer can't hold liquor for a coin tonight, and I am very, very drunk, savvy?' His words froze me in place, an inch from his face. He did not move at all, or even look at me. I did not so much feel shocked to be discovered, as frustrated at his rejection. He was toying with me.

I grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him from the bed. He landed sprawled on the floor, unable to catch himself in time.

'You are not drunk!' He pushed himself upright and staggered forwards.

'Now listen t'me! Ye don't accuse Jack Sparrow o' being clear-headed and go getting away with it!' His eyes rolled slightly, giving me the impression he honestly couldn't see the floor. In his display of weakness, I took a step and swung my fist into his face. He almost flew backwards onto the wooden floor, blood erupting from his nose. He clasped a hand over the flow.

'Blast me, Will! What's _wrong_ with you?!' His look was mad, and unquestionably sober.

I could not face him, not now, and not like this. I sprinted to the door, and then crashed against it as it failed to give way. I shook the handle several times, then kicked the door harshly, spinning round.

'What have you done!' I shouted, feeling sweat breaking on my back and above my lip.

'Locked you damn fool!' Jack mumbled through his hands. He was crawling back to the bed, and grabbed a handful of the bedding. As he buried his face against it, I saw the blood slowly creeping into the fabric.

'Is it broken?' I asked quietly at last. When he said nothing, I went to him, holding him by the neck and pulling his head back slowly to see. There was blood over his cheeks, and still running down to his chin. The nose did not appear broken, but Jack's eyes were only half opened. As his weight began to slump against me I quickly grabbed him up and placed him heavily on the bed. 'Jack, listen to me. Open your eyes.' I slapped his cheek, but he did not move. I was frozen against his side, wondering if he was unconscious from drink or the shock of losing blood. Or both? I searched his hands, his pockets, finding an array of interesting items, but not a single key. There was none that I could see in the room, and so I went to the door and kicked and banged on it some more.

'We need help in here! Can anybody hear me?' I knew it was night-time, but the place could not be so completely abandoned as soon as dark fell, could it? I gave up in the end, it was pointless.

'Jack. Please. I'm so sorry, please wake up.' I shook him some more, and then spied the washbasin on a nightstand by the closet. I draped the cloth from it in the water, carrying the basin back to the bed. I sat for an hour or so, wringing out droplets across his face, cleaning the blood off. There was so much of it running into his collar, and onto the pillow. The small pale of water had long run crimson before I finished, so that wiping it off became pointless. I did my best, and then sat, with my face in my hands, feeling slightly desperate, still drunk and almost positively stressed. When Jack at long last stopped bleeding, I was less afraid, but not completely so.

I rubbed my neck slowly as I glanced to the locked window in the corner. I could not see the half-moon, but its light shone on the windowsill. Restlessly, I went and looked right, out into the main street. Surprising amounts of noise still came from outside despite the time. As I glanced to the left down the side of the building, I watched what looked like the same girl who had served us getting fucked up against the opposite wall. In the light of the moon, she didn't look like she was enjoying it much. I clenched my hand against the glass, but I could do nothing about this. After a while it made me hard, so I added this to my embarrassments and moved away from the window, ashamed.

The room was fading to darkness as first one of the oil lamps burned out, and the other shortly followed. I fell asleep kneeling against the side of the bed, his hand held tight between mine.

* * *

'_Rum_!' Jack yelled, sitting bolt upright as I fell on my back, and looked up in shock. A whole morning had passed, and the evening sun fell reddish on his wide eyes, with black shadows mooned around them. They darted left, and then right, and then he slumped back groaning as he clutched his forehead. His hair was sticking out at a backwards angle, with a gravity of its own making.

'Captain.' I almost swallowed the deep word.

Jack leaped up again at my voice, and fell off the side of the bed. I heard him land with a lead-like thud, and then he lay still.

'Mother of all the bastards that make drink! My _head_!' He yelled again, and after a minute threw his chest over the bed. I watched him lying sprawled there, his mouth and eyes wide in disbelief.

'You all right?' I asked grasping the armchair behind me to pull myself up. I strode across to him; he looked up at the length of me slowly.

'At what point last night did I dive against a wall?' He winced, and stood almost upright, hanging onto the table nearby with a white-knuckled grip. 'There was _definitely_ rum involved this time, of that I'm certain.'

'Yeah. That and my fist.' He frowned hard whilst leaning backwards sluggishly to get a better look at my face. I lifted my right hand up to look at the fresh, raw scabs on my knuckles.

Not paying much attention, he clasped my bad hand to pull himself upright making me grimace silently, then grabbed hold of my shirt to keep himself there. 'Now, if you'll be so kind as to just step aside whilst I find the shortest route to the side of the boat. His face looked pale and sickly as he retrieved a key from somewhere within his actual trousers, and fled through the door.

'We're not on the ship!' I shouted after him, half smiling as I heard him start retching down the corridor.

I admitted I had not thought to check his groin for a key, which was probably for the best.

I saw Jack draped lifelessly over the edge of the banister as I made my way slowly past him and down the stairs, avoiding the mess he had made. One of the men behind the bar looked up at me with a slight glower on his face. I felt repelled by the look, and wondered why he seemed so ill disposed to me.

I asked directions to the cleaning facilities and he pointed me towards an open doorway behind the serving area. There were already customers in starting their next night of drinking and I had only just woken from my last. I went into the room which had a mouldy and rather putrid smell. There were barrels of passably clean water, and I stripped my sweat-riddled shirt, splashing and rubbing my chest to get off the worst of it. As I picked up the shaving glass and knife on the side, I lifted it to eye level. Then my jaw dropped wide in shock. All down the left side of my face were smears of Jack's blood, and what I had originally thought was sweat was in fact more of the stuff across my brow and neck. I had not even noticed wiping it on myself in my numbed state the previous night.

In shock, I scrubbed with my nails, frenzied to be rid of it. When I felt I could do no more, I rinsed out the shirt and replaced it wet before shaving as best I could. I looked behind me as I heard Jack's two men standing around not far from the bar talking low.

'-And I heard 'em shouting all-night and banging around the room! Now they're both covered in each other's blood! I don't like how this lies.'

Having done the best I could with myself, I crossed back quietly towards them. 'You've said enough, crewman.' I growled at him, lowering my voice sharply. Crimp, who had been speaking, shook grog down himself.

I noticed Jack had paused his stomach emptying. The two men dispersed as I walked past them, picking Jack up off the stairs and dragging him towards the door, intending to give the golden-haired girl who was hovering nearby a chance to clear his mess in peace. 'This'll be costing you extra,' she called out at me as we walked by.

I nodded absently, and left Jack to wander out as I turned back to the room to find his pouch of money. It was right at the bottom of his bag, as these things have a way of being. And I had to take out both his spare clothes and the same book he had been pretending to read the night before until I could reach it. Then my heart froze in it's chest. I could not mistake the piece of paper that was sticking out from the pages. I pulled the book apart harshly and knelt silently where I was, reading the same words over again. The paper had been stained since I wrote it, but the words were still sickeningly clear.

I grabbed the note and the money, and pushed everything back in the satchel. As I ran downstairs, I dropped some coins on the nearest table to content the girl, who nodded appreciatively.

'He'll be back later, clean the room, please,' I asked quietly, unable to look her in the eye after what I'd seen last night.

Above all things, I had to get away from Jack. Now that he knew what I'd written, he knew my true soul. After all the time I'd had, I was entirely unprepared for this. I had been fantasising about a man to a point where I probably recalled him in a way entirely different from who he actually was now. I had imagined him brushing aside everything, grabbing me to him and pushing me onto the nearest surface. Now instead, I recalled the look of amusement he had had that very morning when he must have been reading the words I'd written to him. He found it ridiculous. And he thought me pathetic. Jack had never had time for weak characters, and I found myself feeling differently towards him now. Why did he lie to me about reading my letter? Did having the upper ground over me really mean so much to him? Did he enjoy the torment I had been going through on his behalf?

When I got outside, Jack was running his face under the hand pump of a well. He looked up at me briefly, and I glanced at the sky, trying not to panic. By this time, I could see the light was already fading. I had not realised it was so late in winter, spending so much time at sea and alone had muddled my perception of things. I looked at the full length of the street. I had money now. I could leave. All these thoughts rushed through my mind in a barely controlled order, when I felt a sudden grasp on the top of my arm from behind. Jack pulled me back and I stumbled against him hard.

'You're planning to leave,' he whispered accusingly, yet I could feel his smile in the way he spoke. He thought this was amusing. How could he tell what I was planning?

'You lied to me.'

'Yer staying with me tonight, William. No drinking this time. No games.' Dread of his words filled me in a way I had not expected.

'I have my own destination to go to.' I replied automatically.

'No you don't, you've planned nothing more than finding me. But things have changed here now, pirating is harder. Everybody wants for more. You've not a scrap of gold about yourself, and won't get far like that in Tortuga. You know what this place is, Will. There's men here that'll kill you for nothing but the fun of it.'

I lowered my head which he mistook as acceptance. I noticed he hadn't offered me any of said gold so that I might make my own way. He liked that I was dependent on him, I knew what he would make of me now. But I had not come this far without learning my fair share of deception. And stealing was no longer beneath me. I had wasted enough time looking for him to then be treated like this; I had chased a dream, not a man. The reality of his character was a hard blow to take.

I waited for him to move, and turned towards him that he might believe I would follow. As he bent once more to drink from the well, I stepped back a few paces, and then bolted like a deer.

'Wait, wait! Turner! Get back here!' I heard him shout as I fled down one alley and into another. I ran longer than necessary, until I lost even myself in the narrow back streets. I had probably not gone that far in truth, but my heart jumped in my chest as I held still for some time to be certain I was not followed. I kept walking, for probably an hour before I finally accepted I was alone, and then I cried. It was completely unmanly, but I could not help it. I shouted, yelling, and kicking at the wall I had come to rest against until my eyes stung with swollenness, my throat was sore, and I felt shattered by the deadness replacing my anger.

It had all gone wrong. My mind was broken, something was fundamentally wrong with me, and I felt utterly sick of all things. Not that it would matter when the Blood Mob eventually caught up with me.

Tortuga had changed, and yet somehow not, in the time since I had last seen it. It seemed rowdier but in a darker sense. I didn't know what I was going to do now, or in the time to come. Jack had been right about me not getting far, but I couldn't have given him the satisfaction of asking for money. Or of spending the night like that with him. If I had stayed, it would have just been sex, and if he had then given me money, I would have become nothing more than another of his whores.

He didn't see me the same way I thought of him, and it killed me to understand this. But at least I finally did.

* * *

To be continued


End file.
